What is One, Without the Other?
by george's firework
Summary: Coming up to Fred's first anniversary, George finds himself writing a letter to his twin brother in an attempt to get the weight off his chest. Currently a one-shot.


Hey Fred, George here.

I figured what's a better way to get the weight off your chest than writing to your twin brother? Sure, it'd be better if I would actually get a response, but that's life. Right? If you were here, you'd probably be breathing down my neck saying "actually, George, it's death. Idiot." And we'd both be rolling on the floor laughing. Just like old times.

It's coming up to your first anniversary and, I have to be honest, it's been a really hard year for me. For all of us. Mum's taking it really hard – I try to avoid going round for tea too often because I can tell it hurts a lot to see me. Of course that obviously has to do with the fact that I'm missing an ear, not because I'm completely identical to you. She's not helping herself by having pictures of you everywhere but I suppose it makes some people feel better to have proof that you once lived and laughed. Sure, they're just pictures but because we wizards are so smart and can make pictures move, for some people it's almost like you never left.

What did you say? How's my ear? Sorry, didn't hear you. I know. That was bad. It's been better but of course, it'd be better if it was actually still attached to the side of my head. According to Dad, a little muggle girl actually found it. Poor soul she's in therapy now, and the muggle police have an investigation up and running. I'm not really sure how he managed it but Percy poofed into the local police station and managed to change the structure of the DNA so they wouldn't go running to the Burrow's door. As interesting as I am sure that would be, I don't think Mum could really cope with that.

I'm going to change the subject to something you'll probably find even funnier now... Ron and Hermione are engaged! I know, it's hilarious isn't it? Ickle Ronnikins probably thought that if he got a ring on her finger within a year, she'd never run away. Wouldn't blame her if she did though, our dear brother has always been a right twat when it comes to the ladies. How he managed to get the goddess that is Hermione, I'll never know, but I have problems enough of my own when it comes to women.

You will, undoubtedly, remember the wonders that are Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson? I can just tell that you're smirking down on me now as a few of our... adventures with them run through our minds. We had so many good times in the broom cupboards and secret places of old Hoggywarts. Do you remember that time that you were in Filch's favourite cupboard with Katie and I was standing guard outside when Snape just happened to wander past?

_What are you up to now, Weasley?_

_I've got a detention, Professor Snape, and I'm just waiting for Filch to come along and tell me what to do with my trouble-making self._

_No bother, Weasley, I'm sure I can sort you out with some cleaning supplies and send you off to clean my cauldrons._

_B-but, Professor, you know how Filch gets about his cleaning supplies and people touching them. Oh, look! There he is up there. Best run, you know he doesn't appreciate being kept waiting. Oh, just a tip, I saw Peeves heading towards your classroom at very high speed cackling something about mixing together powdered Erumpent horn with a little bit of that Basilisk venom you keep locked away. That could be very interesting._

The look on his face was absolutely hilarious; I wish you could have seen it. Who knew old Snapey could actually show some emotion other than pure disgust? Sure, in the end we discovered he was actually good – who would have guessed? But it's still amusing to poke fun at our favourite greasy-haired professor. I swear, I could have killed you and Katie right there when you both burst out laughing in the cupboard. Snape stopped, and I thought he was going to come back, but due to my intellectual genius and my shout of 'what was that bang?' we were saved.

I know I told you this entire story in more detail at the time of the actual experience but it's always good to relive things. Such as some of our finest Quidditch moments and the ways we celebrated afterwards. I can see you waggling your eyebrows at me, you dirty-minded twat. I was talking about a bottle of Butterbeer and a few Canary Creams. Honestly!

I'm getting off track. You'll remember how we used to make bets on who would get Angelina and who would get Katie for the long-run. Bets are off brother, seems like both of them want me. The sad thing is, they don't want me for me. They want me for you. Well, it's not sad for you. You're probably sitting there laughing your arse off, you prat. But let me tell you, for some people it's kind of degrading to realise that two gorgeous girls are only after you because they feel sorry for you and because you look exactly like your brother, minus an ear. It's almost like they're in a competition to see who can make me feel like the biggest pile of crap. One day Angelina will wake me up with a hot breakfast and stay with me until it's time for her to go to work, then Katie will show up to cook me lunch, and sometimes dinner. You should have seen it the day they both showed up at the same time. I swear, one of the neighbours nearly knocked down the door to see if I was alright. It's great that they're worried and all but sometimes I feel like telling that I am capable of looking after myself and that I do not need to be looked after like a little kid. But somewhere inside of me, I know I'd be lying if I said that.

When I said earlier than it's been a hard year... that was an understatement. Every morning I wake up and look over at your empty bed, still as messy and un-made as it was the morning before we went to fight; it feels like I've been hit by a ton of bricks. No, bigger than that, a stampeding Hippogriff which tears out my insides, tramples all over them, stuffs them full of bricks and lead and then forces them back inside me. I don't know how the hell I've managed to keep going so long without you, especially with all the people at the shop who don't know that you're... who don't know what happened.

A boy came up to me yesterday and went, "Hey, I know you! You're the funny man! You're Fred Weasley!" and I'm not lying, I had to close the shop for a couple of hours because I just couldn't cope.

Everywhere I go, you're there. Following me. No matter where I am and what I'm doing there is something there that reminds me of you. A wrapper from one of the sweets we spent so long making, or a quill that looks exactly like yours, or a jumper that's the exact colour of the one you were wearing the day of the battle. That especially.

I lied earlier, too. I said I try to avoid going home because it hurts Mum but that is the worst lie I have ever told in my life. I don't go to the Burrow because it kills me to see the pictures of you everywhere, to see the pitying smiles from our family, to look into our bedroom and see you sitting there, laughing at a joke that's no longer being told. I didn't go to Ron and Hermione's engagement dinner because I felt like if I went, it would turn from a happy celebration into a sad waste of time where everyone dances around their words because they're walking on eggshells around me.

But it isn't fair, Fred. Everyone else is so happy and I'm here, wallowing in misery and sadness and just wishing it had been me. Ginny and Harry are so completely in love that I wonder how they aren't surrounded by Cupids and rainbows every moment of their sickeningly sweet lives. Teddy is growing up to be a very boisterous baby who is like his mother in looks but like his father in courage. Percy's moved in with Penelope, and Fleur and Bill are trying for a baby. Charlie's got himself a girlfriend, Lee's a successful Quidditch commentator and it just seems like I'm the only one who doesn't have something brilliant and shiny to live for.

I said that Harry and Ginny are utterly oblivious to everything but each other but that's not true. Harry and I have kind of been leaning on each other, especially when Ginny and the girls aren't around. He's having a pretty tough time, what with watching Snape die and then discovering he was good all along, then having to see so many of the people he cared about die, then being killed himself. That man does go against everything, to be honest. But he's really helped me through this. Well, not really, but more than anyone else. When he and Ginny stop by the shop, he doesn't look at me with pity like Gin. Just a quiet understanding.

He's becoming something of a brother to me, something he'll probably become officially soon, but there's still a huge empty hole in my chest where my real brother should be. When I went into the Great Hall during the break in the fighting and saw you laying there... it was like someone ripped out half my heart and tore it up in front of me. You looked like you were just lounging around on the floor; you still had a trace of laughter in your eyes. But I knew I'd never hear you laughing again.

Of course, you'd probably be laughing if you could see me now. You'd tease me, and call me a baby for crying so much that you can't read half of this letter because my tears made the ink run before it could dry. You'd tell me to get off my arse and stop being such a miserable twat and do something useful with my life. But I can't, Fred.

I just can't.


End file.
